Those About to Die
by CharlesTheBold
Summary: What is Caesar really thinking as he interviews those about to die in the Hunger Games. This story offers a possibility


**Those About to Die**

_(Disclaimer: I have no business connection with HUNGER GAMES. My only purpose in writing this story is to have fun and maybe share it)_

_Ave Caesar, morituri te salutat - Hail Caesar, those about to die salute you._

– Gladiators' Pledge in ancient Rome.

By the time the girl tribute from District 12 made her exit, Caesar was exhausted, and not just by the physical stress of 23 straight interviews. It was the horror of knowing that all but one of the Tributes were _morituri_, doomed to die, and carefully schooling himself not to show awareness of the horror. Everybody in Panem was watching – in the Capitol out of fascination with the Games; in the Districts by command of the government. If even a handful noticed wavering on Caesar's part, word could get back to Snow, and Snows' anger could be fatal.

A few years ago, Snow had ordered the Chief Gamesmistress – one of the most powerful people in the empire, with billions of Monetary Units at her disposal – executed. Not because 23 Tributes had died on her watch – that was normal – but because the Victor had committed suicide a few days later, overdosing on the morphling used to ease the pain of his wounds. The lack of a living Victor had forced the cancellation of numerous post-Game rituals, and Snow was enraged. Bread and Circuses were important.

Fortunately most of the Tributes knew their lives were on the line, and did their best to have a good interview. The boy from District 1 was confident and macho, the girl from District 2 sexy, the red-headed girl from District 5 shrewd and witty. Even the little girl from District 11 had projected herself well. The main problems had been the boy from District 11 and the girl from District 12. Both seemed outraged over having been forced into the Games, and unable to produce an attractive façade for people they despised. But perhaps neither needed to. The boy was more than two meters tall and strongly built; he had an obvious advantage in any fight. The girl had dazzled the audience with her flame costume during the parade and had been nicknamed "The Girl on Fire"; later the Gamesmasters had awarded her the most points of the year, 11 out of 12, though it was not clear why. They could win admirers and sponsors without Caesar's help.

As the District 12 girl went offstage, she tripped over her evening dress. She had struck Caesar as a sort of tomboy, and probably did not wear long dresses very often. The District 11 girl helped her back up. Odd to see even that bit of cooperation among Tributes. Fortunately it had not happened on camera. Caesar hastily looked in the other direction, as if eager to see the next and last Tribute. And he was glad that it was the last one.

Peeta. the last tribute, had also been clad in the flame costumes during the parade, though oddly enough nobody was calling him "The Boy on Fire". He did have superficial advantages: he was handsome, and unlike his companion from District 12, he knew how and wanted to be entertaining. But being entertaining would not win a Game, nor would it encourage sponsors to think he was capable of winning a Game. So Caesar tried another tack: romance. That was something nearly everybody could relate to, regardless of sexual orientation, and even if the fine sentiments were a cover for a mainly sexual relationship.

Peeta at first resisted the change of subject, but something in his face told Caesar that he had touched a nerve.

"Handsome lad like you. There must be some special girl. Come on, what's her name?" Caesar encouraged.

"Well, there is this one girl. I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure she didn't know that I was alive until the reaping."

That was hard for Caesar to relate to; he had been famous for three decades, because everybody was forced to watch his interviews. But the audience seemed to love it.

"She have another fellow?"

"I don't know, but a lot of boys like her."

"So here's what you do: you win, you go home. She can't turn you down then, eh?" That was a favorite rhetorical trick of Caesar's: act as if the Games were already won, even if the odds were 23 to 1 or worse.

"I don't think it's going to work out. Winning won't help in my case,"

That mystified Caesar, who knew from long experience that power and prestige were a great aphrodisiac. Most of the women who went to bed with him were attracted by his fame as the Hunger Games interviewer; a Victor would have an even greater aura. "Whyever not?" he asked in genuine confusion.

Peeta started to stammer. "Because – because – she came here with me."

Caesar was bewildered at first. Then he remembered the conditions under which Tributes were brought to the capital. No family, no friends came along. Just the Capitol escort and the mentor, both probably too old to be considered "girls". Then he realized. "She" was the District 12 Tribute.

"Oh, this is a piece of bad luck," Caesar said in dismay.

"It isn't good," Peter said simply.

Within the next month, either the boy or the girl, probably both, would be dead. It was impossible for the love story to have a happy ending. And why not? There wasn't even a decent feud in the background. Just a crowd who got their kicks out of seeing Tributes kill each other. Or, frankly, wasn't it at bottom the will of President Snow?

Caesar was so startled that he scarcely knew what he was saying after that; he could only hope that it was nothing subversive, about the lovers being doomed for no good reason. He was relieved when the buzzer sounded and the last interview was over.

As Peeta went to join the other Tributes, Caesar saw the face of his ladylove. Far from being flattered, she looked like she wanted to beat him up. But that was Peeta's problem. Caesar himself was more shaken than in any past interview of his career, and that was saying something.

His apartments during the Games were in the upper levels of the Studio, and he had a standing rule that he be allowed to go there directly after the interviews, with no interruption. The staff often joked that he needed to go to the bathroom badly after the long time on stage, but that wasn't the real reason. Caesar needed to recover emotionally.

Officially, Caesar's function was to draw out the Tributes' personalities, to make it easier for sponsors to judge and evaluate them. Seeing them at a distance in parades and reading the judges' numbers were not enough for the sponsors to make decisions. But Caesar had a more lofty motive.

When Caesar first started, three decades ago, the people of the Capitol regarded the Tributes the way they regarded the championship race horses who ran every year back then – talented animals who existed for their entertainment (the races had died out; they couldn't compete with the Hunger Games). Caesar realized that interviewing the Tributes, encouraging them to discuss their lives, would humanize them. Maybe the people of the Capitol would realize that despite the cultural distance between Districts and the Capitol, the Tributes were people like them, whose lives were to be tragically cut short. And Caesar made an effort to present all the Tributes in a favorable light. Even the most unimpressive Tribute had a right not to have his or her life abruptly ended.

But he had failed. The people made heroes of the Victors, and brought Caesar back to interview them about their success, but the others were forgotten.

Maybe it was time to do more. Maybe he should use his fame to speak out, to denounce the needless loss of life, try to persuade the people of the Capitol not to support the Games. But Snow would have him shot, and Caesar was too cowardly to face that.

Maybe the story of lovers who were doomed by the games would impress the People. But maybe not. More likely, Caesar would be back next year, to interview 23 more young people doomed to die.

THE END

_( AUTHOR'S NOTE : I suppose it's obvious where I got the notion of Katniss tripping on her evening dress)_

_(AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is based on the books' version of Caesar, who is involved only in the interviews. The movie version shows him cold-bloodedly commentating on the Games themselves, a function that the books give to Claudius._


End file.
